


The Trash Pile: Soundaid Edition

by AptGoodTouch



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: AU, AU everywhere, Drabble Collection, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-20 20:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4801364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AptGoodTouch/pseuds/AptGoodTouch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The other crackpair. It all started with TFP AUs and now it's spiraled out of control. Aka, this is a pile of pwp that I'm collecting from my tumblr. </p>
<p>Ratings, tags, and summaries will be given in the first chapter/table of contents. Actual works will be posted starting with chapter 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Table of Contents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cytokiine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cytokiine/gifts).



> I will do my best to think of tags, but let me know if something needs to be added to a work. Comments are wonderful and I love to hear what you think. <3

 

* * *

 

 

1) [Fresher is Better](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4801364/chapters/10992074) (2778 words)

            Rating: T

            Characters: First Aid, Shockwave, Soundwave

            Tags: Terrorcon/Vampire AU, Irresponsible Medical Practices, 'Friendly' Vampirism

            Summary: Of all the mechs to be infected by the terrorcon, it just had to be Soundwave.

2) [(title coming soon shhh)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4801364/chapters/11010635) (1655 words)

            Rating: E

            Characters: First Aid, Soundwave

            Tags: AU (Bugformers), cross-species fragging, size difference, sticky, messy-ish, knotting, oviposition, a dash of cumflation/egg bulge and vaguely implied oral sex.

            Summary: This is a pwp. First Aid frags his big bugmech friend. 


	2. Fresher is Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of all the mechs to be infected by the terrorcon, it just had to be Soundwave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T  
> Characters: First Aid, Shockwave, Soundwave  
> Tags: Terrorcon/Vampire AU, Irresponsible Medical Practices, 'Friendly' Vampirism

            Heaps of shattered Vehicon frames lay behind the thick glass of the containment chamber in Shockwave’s lab. He could see sickly dribbles of energon down the planes of their armor, the splintered remnants of their visors, the plastered layer of biohazard warnings all over the key lock warning any foolish mechs away from the diseased remains within.

 

            First Aid gulped.

 

            “You’re sure that this vaccine will be effective, Shockwave?”

 

            Shockwave’s focus remained on the syringe, filled with swirling green and blue. Bubbles clung to the glass of the barrel as he turned, his red optic light glinting on the pristine needle. First Aid shifted on the slab, visor and faceplate snapped tightly closed, trying to look away but the contents of Shockwave’s workspace tended to have rather the opposite effect of comfort. He heard the tink of the needle on the slab, felt Shockwave’s measured touch pulling the plates of his inner arm’s armor away. Exposing the soft mesh under layer, swabbing it briefly. It wasn’t until Shockwave picked the needle back up, tapping it against his gun before he squeezed out the air bubbles and a drop of the vaccine, that he spoke.

 

            “It has shown an acceptable enough rate of success in the drones that I feel it is logical to move onto the next step of testing.”

 

            His voice carried the same worrying steadiness it always did as he slid the needle into his subject’s arm and the two mechs watched the slurry vanish into his lines, a sick burst of cold moving like sludge into his system. Past the point of no return, now.

 

            First Aid cleared his vocalizer. Shockwave’s optic stayed fixed on him. He was all too aware of the heavy gun close to his head, how easily the scientist would be able to offline him if it seemed the vaccine had infected rather than protected him.

 

            “So, what have your success rates been with the Vehicons again?”

 

            Shockwave shuttered his optic.

 

            “Around seventy percent. You are the first non-drone test subject.”

 

____________________

 

            His energon intake increased by 7%. His core temperature dropped, but only by half a degree before it stabilized. Some part of him seemed to insist, as he sipped his own ration of medical grade, that it didn’t taste quite as nourishing as before. A part of him that he rapidly silenced. Neither he nor Shockwave had detected any other anomalies in his system for a full decacycle, and while First Aid insisted that further testing and refining take place before the rest of the crew was vaccinated, it seemed for now that his own immunization had been successful.

 

            Of course, that only meant that it was time to handle Soundwave directly.

 

            First Aid stood outside the isolation block, peering back down the hall. The airlock had sealed behind him. The code was randomized every few minutes, set to explicitly deny any attempts by the one inside the cell. Just in case he happened to get out. No one _really_ trusted that their comparatively paltry code patches would be enough to restrain Soundwave if he truly wanted to hunt, after all. They just hoped the airlock doors would give them time.

 

            As he keyed in the override code, he tried not to think about how Soundwave even attempting to reach the Nemesis outside meant that the officer-turned-terrorcon would have already gone through him.

 

            He’d _seen_ the Vehicons Soundwave had dispatched. The lethal grace he moved with, his entire frame bent and focused on the hunt. Seen how quickly the virus acted, seen how little energon remained in their frames once he’d drunk his fill, their necks punctured, leaking wrecks.

 

            _Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all._

 

The sight of a sealed stasis pod, glass frosted with cold, greeted him. He didn’t dare relax. First Aid stepped softly around it, not turning his back to it even once as he made his way to the table in the back of the cell.

 

Both he and Shockwave hoped that Soundwave would express some interest in the energon cubes there; they were bright and pure, the highest quality they could manage to produce. Neither dared lace it with an attempted cure yet. Not that Megatron hadn’t been more than keen to try gently convincing them to work faster. Fortunately, together they presented a united wall of reason even their leader couldn’t argue, even if the officer’s presence was already sorely missed. They had barely cobbled together a vaccine; it would be decacycles at best before they could hope to make a _cure_.

 

            He raised his hand, ignoring the way he shook as he pointed the remote release control at the pod and activated it. The vaccine would keep him safe from infection, at least. And it had… seemed that he had had higher retention of consciousness than the Vehicons. Which basically boiled down to, as the petal-like panels parted and Soundwave’s biolights glimmered back to life, that it wasn’t _as_ likely that he’d attack first thing.

 

            Admittedly, when Soundwave pushed himself up, legs trembling, his helm turning towards First Aid even as he rose, he had his doubts. He could hear each vent of his systems; the way they labored, his entire frame shifting with each one. Cracks fissured across his visor, but it was still impossible to read the mech as they stared at each other.

 

            Soundwave stepped forward.

 

            First Aid flinched away, optics shuttering, tensing in preparation of fanged prongs in his neck, but… None came. Instead, glass shifted on metal a few feet away. He cracked an optic and couldn’t hide his relief as he saw Soundwave’s visor lift, and his shaking, slender hands raise the cube of energon to his normally-hidden lips. By the last cube, he felt daring enough to hold one out to the taller mech himself.

 

            Even if the way Soundwave tilted his helm towards him, tongue cleaning away drops of energon from his mouth drew First Aid’s gaze like a magnet, and the way their fingers brushed together as he took the fuel made First Aid’s spark wobble.

 

            His comm crackling to life came as a more than welcome interruption. Shockwave’s questions were thorough enough that he couldn’t devote nearly as much of his processor to wondering at the superfluousness of that lingering touch; not once before had Soundwave so much as spared him an extra nanoklik of his time.

 

            All he could do was hope that the optics settled on him weren’t considering if he’d taste better or worse than the energon cubes.

 

____________________

 

            Shockwave delivered the next ration of energon. And the one after that. First Aid remained in the lab, working tirelessly to improve the vaccine to an _actual_ acceptable rate of success as well as reducing or, hopefully, eliminating the side effects. He could accept his own increased rate of consumption, but across the entire ship would be flat unacceptable.

 

            Repeated trials showed slow gains. At least when Shockwave joined him, things went faster. It allowed First Aid’s over-worked processor downtime; time to collapse on the battered bench that served too often as a berth and read over his logs of Soundwave’s condition.

 

            As was expected, Soundwave was little short of voracious. His system ran through energon at a terrifying pace, barely affected by rich medical grade that normal mechs could barely drink through a cube of. First Aid glanced away from his data pad towards their dwindling supply--removed from Knock Out’s supervision along with the rest--and then back to the next comment Shockwave had left. A suggested experiment for the next day, should his ever-faithful assistant agree.

 

            After all, every terrorcon had sought _active_ energon, not their stored supplies. And seeing as Soundwave’s appetite was now evening out, it could hardly hurt to try feeding him some. They had more than enough. Heating it back to standard frame temperature would be no issue. If First Aid put it into a cube, he could pretend the commander was drinking nothing out of the ordinary.

 

It was when he read the second course proposed that he set the data pad down and stared blankly up at the ceiling.

 

            _If_ Soundwave rejected the reheated active, the next option was to offer him some from First Aid’s own lines. His system was healthy, after all, and the vaccine would ensure that the infection didn’t spread to him. As for the possibility of Soundwave simply drinking his small frame dry, well… Shockwave’s gun could ensure that wouldn’t happen.

 

            Neither mech discussed it openly in the lab. Shockwave’s optic lingered on the data pad next to the bench and nodded, and left it at that.

 

Still, First Aid couldn’t rest easy that night cycle. His berth seemed too exposed, the locks on his habsuite laughably simple to hack. The medical grade Shockwave had had him drink before leaving sloshed in his fuel tank, heavy as lead, and he spent long kliks staring at the shadows of the wall. It wouldn’t surprise him if Soundwave materialized out of them. Logic told him the spymaster and second in command was securely locked away many levels below, but really… how long could it hold him before Soundwave simply grew bored of his tiny living space and cycles with nothing to do but speak with his like-minded minicon? .

 

            Before he drifted off to recharge, he could have sworn the steps of the patrolling Vehicons changed. They became more measured, lighter. Faded to silence in front of his door.

 

            Nothing more than the musings of an exhausted processor, he told himself, and slipped into the warm embrace of a badly-needed rest.

 

____________________

 

            _This will be fine._

 

_He’ll be fine with the reheated._

 

_Probably._

 

Said cube rested heavily in his hands, aching just enough around his fingertips that he used the chance to shift nervously, playing it off with an almost-natural grin at Shockwave when his antennae perked towards him. He knew Shockwave would be there for him if things got out of hand. Not that it would. It’d be fine.

 

            He watched Shockwave key in the code, gave him a chipper wave and a wink before he let himself into Soundwave’s chamber.

 

The lights above glowed dim purple now, apparently more agreeable to his “adjusted” systems. Soundwave slumped against the far wall, his spindly limbs splayed like a discarded toy’s, his visor blank. Only the glimmer of his biolights, half a shade brighter than before, showed he was conscious. His helm barely moved as First Aid came closer.

 

            “The energon’s a bit different today, Soundwave,” he said, fiddling with the cube. Before the words were even fully out of his vocalizer, Soundwave had nodded, extending one expectant hand.

 

            First Aid paused.

 

            “Can you smell it?”

 

            Another wordless nod. Venting softly, First Aid handed it over. Soundwave dipped one slim finger into the blue fluid, his visor lifting just enough for him to stick it into his mouth and _hum_ , his biolights flashing in the most obvious sign of enjoyment the medic had ever witnessed from him. Never mind watching those lips close around his finger and suck, the glimpse he caught of his tongue in the darkness. He looked away. Stared at the far wall and just listened to him drink.

 

            He saw under Soundwave’s visor so rarely, and each time he couldn’t help but stare. Maybe it was centuries of only Shockwave, cut off from other mechs, coupled with the allure of another masked mech’s face, but--

 

            Soundwave laughed, the edges of the sound crackling and warped.

 

            First Aid choked. He jerked his gaze back towards him, watching in utter disbelief as Soundwave’s frame shuddered with silent laughter. His tongue cleaned his lips of the last dribbles of blue, an undeniably mischievous smirk bending his fanged mouth as he set the empty cube aside and rose. Already, his movements looked more fluid. Less pained. He flexed his fingers, even let his data cables slip from his frame and wind in loose coils, the medic taking a nervous step away from those sharp prongs as they tinked together with deceptive delicacy.

 

            Uneasily, he cleared his vocalizer.

 

            “So. Would you say that was… better than your previous rations?” He held up his data pad. His work was a blessing; he could lose himself in professionalism, a cozy persona that could deal with the terrorcon as if he was a normal mech.

 

            But Soundwave didn’t answer. One cable snaked towards him and tugged the pad from his hands, leaving First Aid to fiddle with his hands as Soundwave examined the report and keyed in what looked suspiciously like single-word responses.

 

            Until he reached the end.

 

            He cocked his head. A slender finger rasped over the screen before he turned to First Aid, pointing at a secondary section. A section which he had optimistically closed, and Soundwave must have pulled up while nosing around. The section for the experiment with _fresh_ active energon. His question hung silent in the air.

 

            _Fresh?_

 

            First Aid looked just past Soundwave’s visor. He focused on keeping himself steady.

 

            “We wanted to see how you would respond to the reheated energon first, of course, and seeing as you seemed satisfied with your meal--”

 

            Soundwave’s cables slid towards him once more, but didn’t stop at a distance. One wound up his frame, a slight chill and pressure that made First Aid freeze. Fragile as those prongs looked, they could drill through solid stone. There were Vehicon remains in Shockwave’s lab that had been crushed to pieces by those same tentacles, and First Aid’s plating was weak even compared to theirs.

 

But the touch remained light. Just tight enough to remind him of their presence as the free cable held out his data pad, waiting until their prey reached out to take it. He wasn’t eager to look away. Soundwave’s visor might have hidden his gaze, but that didn’t mean he felt it any less as he finally glanced down to read his answers.

 

They were somewhat heartening. Brief though they were, he hadn’t been feigning his enjoyment. If his answers were truthful, then maybe with a steady diet of reheated energon, Soundwave could return to his post before he was cured. Not that the idea made First Aid comfortable, but the fact was that the Nemesis simply couldn’t function without him. Breakdown was gone, for good now, Knock Out was flakier than ever, and both Insecticons and Vehicons were more than unsettled. Megatron wanted his true second in command back as soon as possible.

 

            A sharp tap brought him out of his musing. The waiting prong scrolled down to the second part of the questionnaire and tapped again. Others hooked under his chin, forcing him to look into his own reflection on Soundwave’s visor as the spy leant forward. Close enough he could hear the purr of Soundwave’s near-silent engines. A line of electricity crackled across his broken screen, accompanied by a burst of static.

 

            “Further testing… would be… logical.”

 

Shockwave’s voice. Spliced together as he titled First Aid’s helm back to bare his neck and trace one finger across the quivering mesh. Above his own frantic venting, he heard Soundwave’s visor click open, felt his warm/cool breath wash over his barely-hidden cables.

 

Then the world blurred. First Aid slammed into the wall, his armor crunching between cable and metal leaving him too stunned by pain to fight. Through the echoing swirl of vision and sensation, metal dragged against his back, and then Soundwave’s lips pressed to his neck.

 

He _felt_ the way Soundwave shivered as he inhaled his scent. And then bit down. Fangs sliced through mesh and cable like it was cloth and energon poured into his waiting mouth. Each swallow was magnified, deeper, an irresistible pull within his lines. Deeply wrong but… Somehow he found himself moaning, as peppered with static as his vision. Listening to the contented purr of Soundwave’s engines and the wet, messy slurps of his drinking, relishing the way his fingers rubbed beneath his plating, soothing him into a willing puddle.

 

Numbness slid through his frame. His world narrowed to the places their frames touched and the grounding presence of the wall against his back.

 

He didn’t hear the door opening or Shockwave’s gun charging. His world simply swam, a mess of purple in front of his flickering optics as Soundwave vanished. No more warm breath on his neck, no more tongue lapping up his fluids. Just the wall and cold floor beneath him as he lay there helpless, dipping in and out of consciousness, faintly aware of Soundwave snarling as Shockwave pushed him away.

 

Even as he passed out, a smile graced his lips.

 

Fresh it was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a thing I've had sitting around a while. The only explanation I have is that we ended up talking about that one TFP episode and then I had to sweat for a while because wow terrorcon Soundwave would be lethal and hot. A world with vampire Airachnid and Soundwave though would be... a world that's totally fucked. 
> 
> This was going to be a pwp but then I lost steam and realized this would be a bit more cruel to lil Aid than I really wanted, so this is probably all that I'll post of this particular AU. 
> 
> I have so many. Please send my docs help. 
> 
> As always, I hope you guys enjoy! Let me know what you think, and if any more tags are needed! \o/


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi, this is pwp. Straight up bugmech fucking. 
> 
> Because bug!soundwave is hot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: E  
> Characters: First Aid, Soundwave  
> Tags: AU (Bugformers), cross-species fragging, size difference, sticky, messy-ish, knotting, oviposition and a dash of cumflation/egg bulge.

            In the levels above, the representatives debated. Cybertron’s and the Forgotten Colony’s mechs hashing through agreements together, doing their best to meet each other’s demands and side step any cultural faux pas.

 

            It was not a fast process, even with Sentinel removed.

 

            Hours later, when they finally decided to take a break, they couldn’t help but notice that the two mechs in charge of prepping energon and refreshments for them were nowhere to be found. Not that anyone minded; the energon was flawless, so there was no need to summon them for more, and the mechs themselves sweet natured and kind.

 

            But they weren’t nearly as far away as anyone suspected.

 

            In a room nearby, locked, unused and unmonitored by cameras, First Aid muffled his moans against the floor, his hands clenched tight as the large bug mech behind him held his hips in his skillful claws and slowly rocked against him. Inch after inch of their exotic spike eased into him with each press of their hips, the Cybertronian biting his lip as he felt lubricants ooze out around each segment that sank into his valve, trickle down his plating and drip to the floor. There would be a puddle under him by the time they finished, he knew it already. He’d seen their spike before, seen the way it slicked and lubricated on its own, and he’d always lubricated… generously.  

 

            The thought made him whimper. Their fluids, puddled and mixed under them, dripping out from his frame. He’d be lying if he claimed he wasn’t looking forward to it. More and more of their spike seated inside him until he could feel the stiffness of it deep inside his belly, could already feel it forcing his mesh outwards. A heavy bulge in his stomach, showing just how deep he allowed them. Their segmented legs fanned around him, their sharp fingers stroking his side as they paused and leant close, humming a purr into his audials. Antennae brushed over his helm and First Aid smiled, laughing quietly.

 

            “I’m alright, Soundwave,” he said, reaching back with one unsteady hand to stroke their claws. “You’re just. A lot bigger than I’m used to, it’ll be alright.”

 

            The carrier mech purred louder. He heard his wings flutter, felt the air stir and their mandibles tickle the back of his neck before they resumed pressing inside. Every segment grew thicker than the last, each one stretching him a little tighter until it took them both rocking their hips together to force the final bulge into him. Even with their combined lubrication, his mesh stretched tight, struggling to allow them in, the ring of his valve straining around the thick base of their spike but unable to push them out.

 

            First Aid bit his lip, optics squeezed shut. It felt good, but this was… Well, he’d lied to Soundwave. Technically the mech was larger than he was even supposed to take, well beyond what his specs indicated. And the way their frame vibrated with contented purring, pressed flush to his back made the nights in his room, slowly trying to stretch himself with false spikes to prepare for this absolutely worth it. The burn of his valve gradually faded as they rested together. First Aid focused on the brush of antennae along his neck and upper back and Soundwave’s claws stroking over and between his plating.

 

            After a while, First Aid relaxed. He could focus more on the feel of their spike, match each bump and ridge rubbing inside him to ones he’d explored before with his tongue and hands; towards the head, a ring of thick nodes that meshed perfectly with his own and trailed down their length all the way to the final knot, itself surrounded by tentacle-like mods that seemed content to just touch him for now. One caressed his outer node, drawing a shaky moan from the young medic.

 

            Above him, they chirred. While he couldn’t understand their language, he’d spent enough time with Soundwave to understand the upwards lilt as a question. The question itself was easy enough to guess; their hips ground against his, the sudden force more than enough to make him cry out and jolt in pleasure. Pleased, they adjusted the spread of his legs and pushed his face back against the floor. Their spike shifted and dragged hard deep inside him with the movement, his mouth falling open in a silent groan. Somehow, the new angle made them feel even larger, made his valve feel absolutely stuffed full.  

 

            Then, they began to move. The final knot of their spike made it impossible for them to truly thrust, but they seemed unfazed. Their movements were shallow but hardly gentle. Their weight alone put force behind each slow grind, First Aid gasping and shaking as ridges along their spike pressed into his mesh and nodes, stroking them to blazing highs in his neural net. He let them cover his mouth, let them fold their body around his own as they slowly, deeply fragged him, muffling each of his cries with their hand and their own in the back of his neck. Their sharp mandibles latched into the exposed mesh, hot breath and saliva warming it as charge skittered between their frames.

 

            Lubricant drooled out around their spike, staining his thighs slick blue as the bug mech kept moving. Obscene wet squishes of mesh on mesh filled the room, accented by their own chittering words and fluttering wings. The tentacle mods stroked and teased at his painfully sensitive outer node, some of them managing to wriggle in alongside the knot to stroke at both their owner’s spike and the medic’s shallow-set nodes, make both of them squirm and gasp.

 

            Their plating shifted against his back and First Aid wasn’t disappointed to feel their data cables coil around his frame, their prongs pick along the edges of his port covers. This… this First Aid was familiar with. Soundwave plucked open his data ports, and even he moaned as their cables snugly locked in along his sides. The first time, he’d been nervous. Linking up wasn’t something to do casually, especially with a strange mech from the colonies. But he’d… come to understand.

 

             It was _different_ for these mechs. For ones like Soundwave, even more so. Carriers would use these cables to capture and write new symbionts; something that First Aid wasn’t honestly sure Soundwave _couldn’t_ do to a pure Cybertronian, but the way the carrier felt when they connected to him… He couldn’t deny it felt amazing. Even though he wasn’t specifically modded for it, delight and exhilaration coiled through them both and then there was just. Soundwave. All around him, frames and processors thoroughly entangled.

 

             Steadily, their thrusts became rougher. First Aid bucked up into their spike and Soundwave’s hips snapped tight against him, pushing him down until he could feel cold tile against his stomach as Soundwave fragged him into the floor. Metal scraped on metal and tile, no doubt leaving scrapes of black on his back and bare ones on his front. It would be a pain to patch up his paint. But how could he worry about that when he had just what he wanted: a big, thick mech pinning him to the floor, tangled up around him and just as excited to have him as he was to take their spike?

 

            Soundwave chittered amusedly against his helm, reminding First Aid that they could hear and feel his thoughts when they were connected like this, but they didn’t seem to particularly mind them. If anything, they seemed flattered. Appreciation gushed through from Soundwave’s end of the connection along with a jolt of charge, delivered straight into his ports. More than enough to make First Aid scream in sudden ecstasy around Soundwave’s fingers, barely muffled as he bucked and writhed under them. Trapped behind the knot, his lubricants pooled and built up in his valve and tingled with the conductive fluid as it clenched around the length stuffed into it. The bug mech purred, their wings suddenly stilling. First Aid could feel a new bulge moving up their spike, the way their grip tightened on him. And then a flood of hot liquid burst deep inside him, his mate keening and chirring, their connection thick with staticky bliss that he couldn’t understand.

 

            He’d sucked Soundwave’s spike before and… and that had been different from this. The connection had fuzzed yes but--.

 

            The bulge continued travelling upwards, Soundwave’s hips bucking desperately into him, and he felt the heavy weight settle inside him with another wave of hot transfluid. It wasn’t until the thing edged up into his tank that something clicked in his processor.

 

            An egg. Soundwave had laid an egg in his tank.

 

            His engine roared to life, heat soaring through his frame as the mech above him poured approval and delight into him, along with a reassurance that the eggs were duds, that Soundwave would stop if he wanted him to.

 

            But he didn’t.

 

            Each weight pressed into his stretched calipers, made him shiver into a small overload as they settled in his tank. Filled him up more and more with Soundwave’s fluid and eggs until his stomach mesh bulged; not obvious to a casual glance, but enough that when they laid the last and pulled out with a rush of lubricant and transfluid, First Aid almost couldn’t tell. He lay moaning quietly on the floor, tangled in their cables, tank and valve filled with shifting eggs.

 

            He didn’t even object to the mech picking him up again, slipping in the head of their spike and pumping a thicker, stickier fluid into him. A plug. Once it sealed him shut, Soundwave turned him over. Their claws stroked his stomach before they settled their face between his legs and began to clean him.

 

            There was still more work to do for the others, and First Aid had to be presentable.

 


End file.
